Sweet Dreams
by Rose Tinted Contact Lenses
Summary: Grey Wardens aren't the only ones who have nightmares.


_A friendship-based one-shot. Just a small idea that occurred to me._

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><p><strong>Sweet Dreams<strong>

**Leliana**

The nightmare comes unbidden to her that night, starting sweet, Marjolaine's arms around her once again. It swiftly dissolves into blood and screams, and she remembers the cells...

She wakes sweating and, letting out a yell of alarm, finds she's clawing at the canvas. She at last realises where she is, and that there's someone in the tent with her. Morgana sits next to her, also clad in a nightshirt and a pair of simple leather breeches; the woman watches her face in concern. Seeing she's awake, the mage asks softly, "Lel?"

"What? Why are you here?" She sits up quickly, looking at her wide-eyed, still bedraggled from sleep.

"I heard you," Morgana replies. "I'm sorry, I'm just... used to it..." Her eyes are far away for a moment, and Leliana wonders what she could mean. "I should probably go..."

Leliana takes her arm as she makes to stand, and the request is quiet. She curses her voice as it shakes. "Stay. I... I would appreciate a friend tonight_."_

A moment of silence, their eyes meeting, and Morgana nods, again sinking to the floor. "Are you all right? I don't like to leave someone alone after a dream like that..." Her voice trails off, and Leliana knows her too well to miss the unspoken words hanging between them.

"Like what? Morgana, what did you hear?" She doesn't mean for the steel to slide into her voice, but she _must _know.

The mage swallows, and is hesitant when she finally speaks. "You were screaming names. Over and over."

Sleep paralyses, does it not? "I thought that wasn't possible..." Leliana begins, then she notices Morgana's suddenly tense posture, that her eyes are always elsewhere. "There is something you aren't telling me." Silence. She puts a finger under the mage's chin, makes her look at her. "I _know _you, please do not try and hide from me."

Morgana briefly closes her eyes, seeming unable to find the words, then says, quietly, "I went into the Fade, to find you. You can't do it with Warden dreams, I... think they're in the Black City itself..." A strange fear clouds the mage's eyes for a moment, and then she exhales. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, I just thought it was worth a try; after the Tower... I thought I might be able to do something..."

Now Leliana notices the telltale, slightly unnatural lyrium blue still in the woman's eyes. From the ritual, no doubt. "You saw all of it?"

A shake of the head. "No, not everything. I didn't want to. But... probably enough." A pause. "I did my best. I'm not about to repeat the experience."

Leliana looks levelly at her for a moment, then smiles; it's small, and slightly sad. "I suspect that is a good thing. Thank you for the attempt, however."

Morgana looks at her feet, muttering something like, "The road to the Black City is paved with good intentions..."

Leliana looks around, finally retrieving the tiny, fragrant bag, then, clothed, climbs out of the tent. Morgana doubtfully follows her, looking surprised when she hands her a large pot. "If you could bring some water..."

"Certainly." The mage heads off to the river, and Leliana takes a seat by the fire, sighing. Head in her hands, she shuts her eyes to try and block out the memories.

"Excellent," she says, looking up as she hears Morgana placing the pot above the fire. She assesses it, pours the excess out of the pot, then hangs it back. Morgana pauses before lighting the campfire.

She waits until the time is right before adding the mixture, stirring it gently. At Morgana's curious look, she explains, "_Chocolat chaud. _Herbs and ground bean from Rivain. From Denerim, for occasions such as these." She sighs. "It has been years, but they come occasionally."

Emptying it into two mugs, she passes one to Morgana, who looks down at it warily before taking a cautious sip. Her eyes widen briefly, and she takes another. "This is... unexpected," the mage murmurs.

"They did not have this in the Tower?" Leliana asks, surprised when Morgana shakes her head. It seems mages are denied even the simplest of pleasures. She remembers her friend's surprise at _make-up, _and sadly, minutely, shakes her head_. _

Morgana's words come back to her then, and she says quietly, "Used to it. You said you were used to it." She looks into the other woman's eyes. "What do _you _have nightmares about?"

Morgana looks into the fire, cradling her cup and seeming to think for a moment. "The Archdemon. The Tower." A pause, and she adds quietly, "Coronations." She seems to come out of her trance, and looks up at her, holding up the cup. "Thank you."

Leliana nods, smiles. "I've heard you, in your sleep. And him. Is this something to do with... your station?"

Morgana sighs. "We are tainted. We will always be tainted. Infertility, a short lifespan and crippling nightmares for the first few months, apparently. He could barely tell me."

"I'm sorry. I should not have reminded you. But I am here," she says firmly, placing a hand over Morgana's. "I am always here, if you need me."

The mage looks up, and seems so very _young _in the flickering firelight, eyes surprised. Then she smiles, and looks more like the Warden that leads them all, the vulnerability carefully tucked away. It will resurface soon enough.

Leliana wonders how long it has been since she's had a simple friendship like this, not one muddied by blood and lust, or by Chantry duty.

"You know I am," Morgana says quietly, and it is enough.


End file.
